Being a claims adjuster might not be a glamorous job or his dream career, but he liked helping people get what they needed.
Rustling newspapers, ringing cell phones and the buzz of conversations couldn’t drown out Red’s laughter that touched his ears before she appeared from the side dining room.
Ian swallowed back the knot in his throat that always seemed to form every time he saw her.
Agnes Kingsley, his best friend since her family moved next door from Texas to Shelby Lake about twenty-five years ago, had captured her ginger-colored hair in a ponytail that did little to keep a few curls from escaping and spiraling around her face.
The Cuppa Josie’s apron tied twice around her narrow waist failed to hide her long legs and the slight curve of her hips. Large hoop earrings dangled from her ears.
Their first meeting was imprinted in his memory—she was ten and he was twelve. The pop fly he’d missed had rolled into her yard next door. She’d stepped from behind her family’s moving van cradling the baseball between two fingers and her thumb. She’d smiled, her crazy mop of ginger hair askew. When she refused to give her name, he dubbed her “Red,” and the rest was history.
The baby she cradled in her arms released a wail that jerked Ian back to the present. Red patted his back while talking to Lindsey Chase, Josie Brennan’s stepsister.
Lindsey tucked a blond strand of hair behind her ear and touched her son’s pajama-covered leg. “You’d make a great mom someday, Agnes.”
A shadow flickered across her eyes. “As much as I love the little darlings, being a mama isn’t going to happen.”
“You say that now, but some guy will turn your head, and then you’ll be holding your own little one before you know it.”
Despite Red’s laughter, he recognized the hollow tone. And when she turned on the Texas charm, he knew to watch out...or rescue her, depending on her target.
He skirted past the couch in front of the unlit fireplace where some dude wearing headphones tapped his pencil against his laptop to the beat of his music. Winding through the square tables filled with the lunch crowd, Ian reached Lindsey and Red.
He caressed the newborn’s soft head. “Hey, Linds. Congrats on your little guy. Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal Agnes from you?” Without waiting for her response, he touched Red’s elbow. “You got a second? I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” She breathed in the infant’s scent once more, then handed him back to Lindsey. “Thanks for stopping in, Linds. Bring him back so I can hug his sweet little neck again.”
To be that baby’s neck...
Turning her attention to Ian, she nodded toward the side dining room. “Mind if we talk in there? I need to finish setting up for a private luncheon. Abby can handle the register.”
Ian glanced at the seventeen-year-old flirting at the coffee counter with one of the Shelby Lake High football players. Yeah, she had it covered. He shook his head and followed Red into the side dining room. He half closed the door for a little privacy. “You okay?”
She smiled wide. “Just dandy. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He leaned against the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe because of your Texas charm? Or maybe the fact that you won’t look at me? Or maybe the way your hand is trembling while you fold that napkin?”
She tossed the yellow napkin on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m just fine, Ian James. Either speak your piece or leave me be. I have work to do.”
Ian rounded the long tables covered with white cloths and cupped her chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze. Sadness fringed her electric blue eyes. He caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re better than fine, Red. I’ve been telling you that for years. But something upset you. What’s going on in that stubborn head of yours?”
Red’s shoulders slumped as she pressed her forehead against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her expensive perfume—the one gift he bought her every year because she refused to spend the money on herself.
“Why does everyone think a woman needs a husband and a baby to be complete? There’s more to life than being some guy’s doormat and changing diapers.”
“Being married doesn’t make you a doormat. Besides, I’m sure Lindsey meant nothing by her comment. You’re just a natural when it comes to kids. From teaching your teen Sunday school class and overseeing the nursery—it’s obvious that you love them.”
“But not every woman can—I mean—wants to raise a passel of babies.” She pushed him away and waved her hands, as if dispersing with that conversation. “What are you doing here anyway? Weren’t you supposed to go to some craft fair with Emily?”
After being best friends with Red for so long, he knew when to back off.
He didn’t really want to talk about his change in plans for the day either, but Red needed to hear the news from him instead of from some customers’ gossiping.
“Yeah, about that...” Sighing, he pulled out a chair, dropped on it and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Em broke up with me last night.”
Red placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Why?”
“She feels I don’t devote enough time to her.”
“She’s right—you don’t. But it’s really not your fault. You can’t work her banker’s hours. You’re required to be in the field when most people are eating dinner or chilling out on weekends. Plus, with running your nephew to practice and feeding your caffeine addiction here, I’m surprised you had time to take her to dinner.”
“Thanks, friend. Whose side are you on?” And his coffee addiction happened so he could see Red.
“Get real, Ian. A woman wants to know she’s valued in a guy’s life. Even with your demanding job, you could make more time to be with her if you really wanted.”
He shrugged and leaned back in the chair. “You’re right.”
“Well, maybe its good you found out now.”
“Yeah, especially now.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, for one thing, I don’t see myself spending the rest of my life with her.”
“Why not?”
She’s not you.
But he couldn’t say it.
“You’re almost thirty-eight, Ian. You’ve wanted a wife and family for a while. Maybe it’s time to think about settling down.”
His conversation with Emily last night made him realize he didn’t want to just date for the sake of going out. He wanted the one woman who’d stolen his heart a couple of decades ago.
He wanted Red.
And now he was determined to prove they belonged together.
“You should take your own advice,” he said.
“Tried that, remember? Apparently, I’m not enough to make a man happy.”
“You need the right man, Red. Your ex was a jerk, who couldn’t see what a great woman he had.” Ian stood and reached for Red’s hand. He ran a thumb over her soft skin.
Red glanced at her hand, then shot him a puzzled look before pulling her fingers away gently. “We can talk more later, if you’d like, but I really need to finish setting up in here.”
“That’s